


A cage of dreams

by ArrenEmris



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms
Genre: Dreams, Dreamsharing, F/M, Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 21:38:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17733146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArrenEmris/pseuds/ArrenEmris
Summary: If Maleficent didn’t curse Aurora, the princess would never find her true love (who, as it turns out to be, is born a century after her). If Evil Queen didn’t poison Snow White, Prince Charming wouldn’t find her. If Ursula didn’t take away Ariel’s voice, Erik wouldn’t find his true love.Every love story starts with a witch. And if there were never any evil witches around… well, some souls would never find each other.





	A cage of dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Avana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avana/gifts).



> Hi!
> 
> I just wanted to say, I enjoyed working on this gift for you and I guess I took a little bit different direction, but I hope you enjoy this story!
> 
> Huge thanks for Kelly and Ashlee for helping me and encouraging me <33

Every story begins with a witch.

It may sound incredible, it may cause mistrust, but the truth is that a sly look, insidious charms, and a pinch of magic hide in every story that is told before bedtime and it stays forever in our hearts. Wonderful stories can happen to good or evil witches, to an ordinary person who dreams of a miracle, to a werewolf who does not take his eyes off the moon, which hurts him and gives him freedom at the same; they can happen to a vampire who has found eternity, or even to an immortal hybrid who has lost faith in what people called “love” at the dawn of ages. In each of these stories, witches have left their mark. Who knows if it is a damnation or a blessing, who knows?

It does not matter because the most familiar stories would not have happened if a witch did not decide to intervene in human affairs...

***

At first glance, Mystic Falls fits the description for an ordinary, tiny town. Such colorless and unremarkable towns are scattered around the world in thousands.

However, Mystic Falls only seems to be simple and ordinary to strangers. The old-timers know that the local land has spawned powerful witches and dangerous monsters, and they feel how the golden dust of magic still permeates the air. They remember how any woman of the Bennett family can call up a thunderstorm when a bad mood strikes her, how she can levitate objects if she is happy about something. Gilberts are perceptive and can understand the intricacies of others' emotions with a flutter of their eyes, and if there are boys in the Salvatore family, then the whole city knows that sooner or later, they will fall in love with the same person.

Caroline, watching both Salvatore brothers stare at Elena, sighs, feeling a bitter resentment rise in her chest. Forbes cannot control the weather or read other people’s minds. The legacy of her family is that they are much like birds stuck in a golden cage: they cannot leave Mystic Falls and they can see the world only through other people's dreams.

They say, many centuries ago, a boy from the Forbes family broke the heart of a young witch: the world outside this small town beckoned to him, and he left without thinking about her feelings. The woman could not forgive the betrayal, and in the heat of rage, in a state where the most cruel and powerful words are uttered, she cursed all the Forbes. Now, other people's dreams covered their eyes, and the city became a cell from which they could not escape.

Caroline arrives at the border of the town almost every week, usually before sunset, and watches the flaming ball of the sun disappear over the horizon. She takes a greedy breath, feeling her skin grow warmer the closer she drifts to the edge, and looks into the distance wistfully, hating that she has to pay for someone else’s stupid mistake. She lifts her palms in the air, feels how the air springs under her touch and how magic burns the tender skin of her hands in warning, then scowls into the haze of sunset.

She has to watch her friends leave this damned town without her, all of them setting off after the adventures and promises of a big world. Bonnie sends her postcards from Paris, shares stories about a charming Englishman whom she met in the Bois de Boulogne, and Caroline is unable to contain the envy enough to prevent tears from boiling in her eyes. She can’t think about walks in the Bois de Boulogne, or even about trivial relationships - Tyler looks at her guiltily one day when he admits that he is leaving for college and thinks they should break up. He presses a soft kiss her against the forehead, wishing her all the best, and Caroline feels like it’s a mockery.

The only thing that can somehow brighten her life are dreams.

She falls into them like Alice. Tumbling headlong into a rabbit hole, with the bright-eyed curiosity and wonder of a child, she explores the world of dreams, where nothing can limit her. Caroline spies into Bonnie's dreams, which smell of cinnamon and almonds, and in them, she sees the pinkish-yellow sunrises over Paris; she hears a man’s full-bodied laugh then listens as her friend’s heart skip a beat, her fingers grazing the smooth stones of walls in ancient buildings. In Elena’s dreams, where she peeks rarely, she sees both Salvatores. She smells something sharp and stingy, like the antiseptic of a hospital, and always feels this cozy state of peace which comes when you take a book into bed and forget about the world around you.

Caroline rarely lingers in the dreams of her friends, preferring, instead, to look for ones that will show her what this curse on her family has deprived her of experiencing. So, one day, she stumbles into the dreams of a stranger, in which the beautiful is so closely intertwined with the terrible that she cannot take her eyes off them. In them, death is the personification of life, and it’s where generously flowing blood coexists with beautiful paintings and objects of art.

After she visits the first time, she wakes up to her heart beating frantically and promises herself in that moment that she will never again seek this stranger’s dreams. But after a few nights, Caroline breaks her own promise, and finds herself in the center of beautiful chaos again, the kind that makes her soul tremble. She should be wary of someone who sees the world in such sharp crimson colors, Caroline knows this, but instead, she feels curiosity. Instead, she feels drawn to see more and more because the world through his eyes is amazing.

She comes to his dreams so often that when a hoarse male voice sounds behind her, Caroline is almost not surprised.

“Hello, love.”

***

 

Klaus does not immediately realize that something is wrong. Just one night, when he allows himself to sleep, he feels someone's presence in his head. It is barely noticeable, like the rustle of the crowns atop trees on a windy day, but he soon detects a strange silhouette lingering in the background. This makes him furious and angry at first, forcing the beast inside him to growl, suspecting some nefarious treason on the horizon. His sister, however, one of the few witches whom he trusts to some degree, touches his temples with her cold fingers, and looks deeply into his dark eyes.

“I don't think this is a conspiracy against you,” says Freya, covering her eyes. “This is not a witch's handiwork, Klaus.”

“Whose then?” Freya sighs heavily and removes her hands, moving away from him. He does not even allow family members to come to him, hating them for daring to have something that he can never have, and it hurts her every time.

“I don’t know. It looks like an accident, as if ... Imagine a city,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Imagine that you walk along the streets of the city, and stop in front of a building you like.”

Klaus smiles crookedly at such an analogy, but he does not rush to answer her. He rubs his temples again, then pierces her with a hard, probing look.

“If you feel someone’s presence in your dreams again, you can try to catch this person in a chain of dreams,” she says, knowing exactly what is required of her. “You can do it with ease.”

“Good,” Klaus nods. He is not going to confess to his sister, but the fact that someone has so easily managed to get into his dreams brings him out of balance and the wolf in him, who feels an unclear threat, flares up inside of him with amber eyes.

Freya squeezes his shoulder gently, and then, remaining obedient to his silent command, hurries to leave. It is hard to breathe near her brother. It’s as if Klaus takes up all the oxygen in any room in which he dwells of resides, forcing everyone to obey his will, and only when she is at a distance from him can she take a free sigh. When she finds herself in Lucien's arms, too, her heart calms. She buries her nose in her mate’s, breathing him in, while also feeling an acute pity and sadness for her brother’s plight.

“I see everything went as usual,” Lucien remarks, stroking her hair, and Freya nods, unable to say a word.

With her mate, she doesn’t even need to talk. Lucien always knows what she wants to say, and in the moments when she feels weakest, he becomes her strength, allowing her to fall back against him for the kind of hug that will keep her upright.

 

Klaus, on the other hand, despises such a connection. He considers it nothing more than a sign of weakness. If it had been his will, he would have killed Lucien long ago, would not have pitied Elijah's beloved, and would have locked Rebekah in a coffin with a dagger in her chest. Freya senses that Klaus’s hatred for such connections is not due to the fact that he considers this weakness, but because he is doomed to loneliness due to the duality of his nature, the curse of their mother. His heart, hardened and wild, belonging to the beast and the vampire, lost hope long ago. Freya throws a farewell glance in the direction of his house and thinks that the unfortunate person who has wandered into the dreams of her brother will never appear again.

 

***

 

Klaus realizes that this is a girl when she appears in his dreams for the third time. She has blonde hair that reminds him of the rays of the Roman sun, and at some point, he catches himself thinking how much he would like to see her face. She slips away every time, however, leaving him unable to catch her. And each time, when he unfolds the bloody and gory details of his sins, Klaus thinks that this will be the last time she comes, but it isn’t. She continues to surprise him.

Klaus stops holding back the moment she stands in front of his canvas at the Hermitage.

“Hello, love,” he says with a grin when she rocks her fragile shoulder blades.They remind him so much of the wings of a careless bird; but contrary to expectation, she fails to fly away and instead remains by his side, looking at him without fear or disgust.

“My name is Caroline,” she says, clasping her fingers together. Her eyes are blue, like a calm sea on a sunny day.

“Call me Klaus,” he says, walking toward her. “How do you like the Hermitage?”

“It's very beautiful here.” She turns back to the canvas then. “So, you are an artist?”

“To a greater or lesser degree,” he replies, and she glances at him from under her eyelashes.

“You mean, when you don’t draw with the blood of your enemies?” Caroline says.

“And, yet, here you are. You have not run away yet, have you, love?” She frowns a little when he calls her by pet name, and Klaus can’t help but enjoy it.

“I can choose whose eyes I want to look through to peer at the world,” Caroline shrugs, not wanting to admit outright why she comes back here time after time. “You’ve seen a lot,” she adds for some reason, expecting that this strange man, from whom danger breathes and crackles, would say that she should never come back again.

But Klaus, seemingly intrigued, promises to show her something much more beautiful the next time she visits. It confuses Caroline.

Now, every time she finds herself in his dreams, he waits for her with a lazy smile, and sometimes Caroline allows herself to smile back. She does not allow herself to be deceived by his attractive facade: she sees beautiful places and his charming smile, yes, but she also stands ankle-deep in blood of his dreams. Instead of the latter frightening her off so that she never returns, it only increases the pull she feels toward him.

Perhaps it’s all because he’s as lonely as she is, or perhaps it’s because he shows and teaches her about the constellations, letting her feel the beauty of every city he’s seen,  
but Caroline lets herself be charmed by him.

“You’ve been so many places,” she says, shaking her head when they are in the heart of Tokyo.

“I'll take you,” Klaus offers, catching her sad look. “Rome, Paris ... Tokyo,” he smiles, throwing his arms in both directions.

“I wish it were possible,” she sighs.

“Why not?”

“This is the only way for me to see the world, Klaus,” she admits, and every word leaves more bitterness in her mouth. “I am cursed.” She looks at him with a sad smile, and stretches her fingers to touch his sharp cheekbones. “I would not hesitate to go to Rome with you, or to Tokyo, but I cannot leave my city. Only through the dreams of other people can I see all this world has to offer.”

Klaus closes his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy her timid touch, then grabs her wrist and pulls her closer. He feels furious at the bloody witches who continue to stand in his way, yet also relieved that Caroline does not push him away.

“There is no such curse that could not be lifted, Caroline,” he says hotly. “Any witch can be outsmarted,” he whispers into her lips, not surprised at the fact that he’s managed to get so attached to this blonde splinter.

Caroline wants to tell him that the curse can only be lifted by her mate. That the witch who cursed all the Forbes wanted to avenge her feelings, making it impossible for her to find her true love while she’s imprisoned in one city forever. That Sheila Bennet, whom she asked for help, peered into the lines of her future and said that she, Caroline, could not have a mate, because he apparently he had been born and had died centuries before her. But she allows herself to be deceived by Klaus’s firm embrace, his quiet whisper, and clings to his shoulders, thinking that she would be glad to never wake up from this beautiful dream.

***

When Klaus orders Freya to go with him to a godforsaken city, she is not surprised. She sees a feverish gleam in his eyes, feels the smell of an unfamiliar magic on his skin, but does not dare ask questions.

Something has changed in her brother, she knows this, but, as usual, he will not enlighten her about his plans or intentions. He only requests that she fix one spell, so Freya goes deep into her grimoires, noticing that the closer they are to Mystic Falls, the brighter the threads of magic shine around Klaus.

Mystic Falls turns out to be a tiny southern town, boring and ordinary, and Freya does not understand what could have brought her brother here. She does not understand it until he enters into a small flower shop. Freya barely keeps up with him, still not realizing what Klaus needs, and then, when she sees a blonde girl behind the counter, surrounded by a vortex of the same magic that pulls Klaus towards her, everything suddenly becomes so clear that she can not help but smile.

“Good afternoon,” the girl greets them, lifting her eyes from a book she was reading, eyes widening in amazement when she sees Klaus. Freya, feeling herself to be an unwitting spectator, takes a step back and tries to hide behind a pot with pink peonies and lush roses.

“Klaus?” the girl says with confusion. “Klaus, is that truly you?”

Even though Freya does not see her brother's face, she’s confident he’s smiling, dimples denting his cheeks.

“Hello, love,” he says as he touches the girl’s palm. An ancient wave of magic pulses through Freya, like a rope binding and unbinding while Klaus holds this stranger closer to him, while the girl clings to his shoulders and whispers something soft and feverish against his earlobe, and that’s when she knows.

Walking out of the store unnoticed, Freya exposes her face to the sunshine and smiles. She smiles because her brother has found his mate without even realizing it.

A heart that belongs to two different kind of monsters finally finds it's sun.


End file.
